Of Serpents and Lions
by Morning Sun in Sky
Summary: Voldemort wins the war. All muggle-borns are now the property of purebloods. Hermione is sold to and bought by none other than Draco Malfoy. Contains: AU, sexual scenes, lemons, noncon, dubcon, violence, slave/master, NC-17.
1. Bought and Sold

**Chapter One**

**Bought and Sold**

Hermione struggled against the Death Eater that was roughly pulling her on a chain to the building ahead, but it was difficult to fight without a wand. Confiscation of wands belonging to all muggle-borns was one of the first rules Voldemort had enacted when he took over. "Magic only belongs to magical people," the Death Eater had sneered as he snapped his wand in front of her.

Other laws, also, had quickly been put into place. The caste system was probably the most significant change. At the top of the hierarchy stood the Death Eaters, who were generously rewarded after the war and continued to act both as Voldemort's inner circle of servants and as a sort of awful police force. Other purebloods were next in the social order, followed closely by half-bloods. Things weren't so bad for the half-bloods; purebloods were just prioritised and were given the best jobs, the best houses, and so on. Hermione, who had studied history at her muggle school, thought it was rather like early nineteenth century America: purebloods were like the superior white people whereas the half-bloods were the inferior black people – still technically citizens, but had to stand if a white person wanted their seat on the bus.

Then Hermione gulped. If the others were white and black citizens, then the muggle-borns were the black slaves. Muggle-borns, or 'mudbloods' as they were referred to as now, had definitely drawn the short straw. Reduced to the status of a house elf. Girls in particular sold off to rich pureblood families. Existed only as property. That sort of thing.

That was where Hermione and a few other muggle-born girls were being lead to now: an auction, where they would be sold. The large, derelict building where the auction was being held loomed, and Hermione and the others were roughly shoved inside, down to what appeared to be a basement.

A Death Eater tossed a hooded cloak in her direction. "Strip down to your underwear. Put this on."

Hermione paused expectantly, waiting for the male Death Eaters to leave the room, but they didn't move.

"What are you waiting for, mudblood?" the Death Eater sneered. _"Strip."_

Hermione thought about defying him, but there were at least seven powerful Death Eaters in the room and she didn't even have a wand. She picked up the cloak and look at its green-and-silver colouring in disdain. _Great, Slytherin colours. _Then she did what all the other girls were doing and began to pull her clothes off, inwardly hoping that the Death Eaters didn't notice the sultry black lace underwear she was wearing today.

Her wishes were ignored. A Death Eater sidled up to her, running his hand lightly over her thigh. Hermione hissed and tried to move away.

"Such a pretty little mudblood," he purred, moving his hand up to her rear. "I expect you'll fetch a lot…"

"She won't fetch a single sickle if she's already had your dirty hands all over her," snapped another Death Eater who appeared to be in charge. "Off, _now."_

The first Death Eater huffed and removed his hands, and Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She drew the cloak around as much of her exposed body as she could.

The Death Eater that was seemingly the leader spoke again, this time to the girls. "You will each be called up to the auction room. You are to stand in the centre of the ring, remove your hood and present your body to the bidders. You will _not _try to escape."

Sure enough, the girls were called one-by-one and walked, trembling, upstairs. After about twenty minutes, all of the girls had gone and Hermione was the only one remaining. At last she heard her name.

She walked upstairs, holding her head high. If she couldn't fight back, she could at least show them that she wasn't afraid – she still retained a spark of Gryffindor pride. The room reminded her of the court at the Ministry of Magic; it was circular, lit by a bright spotlight, and bordered with seats. She could see people sitting on the seats, but couldn't make out who they were; they were just out of reach of the spotlight and were shrouded in darkness. She walked to the centre and took her hood down.

"We have saved our best for last," said the auctioneer's. "This is _Hermione Granger_: close ally to Potter, brightest witch of her age and filthy mudblood whore. Pay generously. Bids start at a hundred thousand galleons."

"One-ten," said another voice immediately.

"Is that all? One-fifty," said a different voice.

"One-seventy five, then."

"Two hundred thousand galleons."

It continued this way for a while, with a myriad of voices placing steadily higher bids. Hermione tried to make out whom the voices belonged to, but there were so many bouncing back and forth that she lost track. Voice after voice eventually went quiet as the bids climbed higher, until there were only two voices left.

"Four-ten galleons," the first voice said.

"Four-twenty," the second voice drawled, sounding bored.

"Four-thirty five," the first voice countered.

There was a pause. Hermione thought that was going to be the winning bid. But suddenly:

"Six hundred thousand galleons."

Silence. The auctioneer's hammer cracked sharply through the air, making Hermione start.

"Sold!" cried the auctioneer.

Hermione turned and blinked, trying to make out the person whom she had been sold to in the shadows. All she knew was that he was male, that he was desperate to claim her and that he was very, very rich.

"Hermione Granger, sold to Bidder Number Six. The mudblood will now go to its owner," the auctioneer said.

Hermione bristled – how dare he talk about her as if she were a piece of property? She stepped out of the spotlight and made her way up to the seats, squinting her eyes in the darkness. Just whom had she been sold to?

"Yes, that's right, come to me, your owner, like the good little mudblood whore you are…"

Hermione froze as she heard at her owner's words. It was the bored, sneering, unmistakable drawl of Draco Malfoy.

_**A/N: This scene was inspired by the film **_**Taken. **_**I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.**_


	2. Malfoy Manor

**Chapter Two**

**Malfoy Manor**

The next sequence of events passed by in such a daze that Hermione barely noticed what was happening. She had been sold to Malfoy. Sold to Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was her owner. She was Malfoy's property.

It was the only thing she could think of and she thought of it over and over. She was vaguely aware of being pushed forwards by some Death Eaters, that she was no longer in the dark gloomy building but under the pale white-grey sky outside. She was pushed into a Thestral-drawn carriage, absentmindedly noted that the carriage had been magically enhanced so that it was much bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. A chauffer held the door open and then _he _stepped gracefully inside and sat next to her, but before she could take it in she was being force-fed a potion and then she was falling, falling…

When she woke up later she felt groggy and disorientated; not from shock, this time, but from the potion. She was sprawled out on the luxurious leather bench-like seat of the carriage, her head resting on the lap of Draco Malfoy, who was sitting beside her. He was softly stroking her brown bushy hair, in the same way one might affectionately stroke a dog or cat. She twisted her neck up to look at him, but suddenly she was being fed the potion again, and everything went black.

When she awoke for the second time she felt much less hazy and confused, but felt very sick. She looked around. She recognised the location as the dark drab basement of Malfoy Manor; she had been here before, imprisoned with the rest of her friends. A chill ran down her spine when she remembered how Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured her that day, carved the word 'Mudblood' into her arm. She whimpered, her eyes pricking with tears. He was her owner. She was his property.

There was a loud _bang _as the door to the dungeon was opened. There was a figure in the doorway. Malfoy.

Hermione quickly scrabbled to her feet. She held her head high, but couldn't stop the whimpers that escaped her lips. Malfoy seemed to be amused by this, walking slowly towards her. He circled her, similarly to how a predator circles its prey, and Hermione tried to calm her violently trembling body.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, a lazy smirk on his face. "If it isn't my new toy: Granger."

The smirk fell from his face as he closed the small distance between them, stood so close to her that they were merely an inch apart. Hermione froze.

"Do you know how long I have waited for this?" Malfoy whispered.

His nose pressed into her hair and he took a deep breath in. He gently grabbed a fistful of her bushy brown locks with one hand and ran his fingers down her shoulder and arm with the other, as if checking that she was real. Hermione flinched at his touch, backing away until she felt herself hit the cool stone wall. She wished it would swallow her.

Malfoy smirked at her fear and only drew closer, until he had pinned her completely up against the wall with his torso. He stretched his arms out on either side of her so that his palms were touching the wall. There was no escape: she had the wall behind her, Malfoy's body before her and his arms trapping her at her sides. He grabbed her face in one hand, forcing her to look at him.

"You're mine now," he growled darkly.

He pushed his body against hers even more, crushing her against the wall. Hermione whimpered as she felt a hardness, felt Draco's unmistakable erection pressing into her belly. She wished that she wasn't still wearing the seductive black lace underwear.

Draco's fingers ghosted gently over her thigh, going up, up, until they hovered over _that _area. Hermione involuntarily felt a growing dampness; her body's response to such stimulation. He held her gaze, forcing her to look into his steely grey eyes as he violated her, watching almost amusedly as her face twitched at the pleasure.

"Such a dirty mudblood, aren't you?" he said softly as his fingers pressed on the sensitive nub of her clitoris over her knickers. Hermione whimpered in a mixture of fear and pleasure, staring up at him with wide terrified eyes. His hand pulled her black panties aside. "Such a filthy, filthy mudblood…" His fingers slipped into the slick folds of her cunt…

Hermione screeched and drew her leg up sharply, kneeing him in the groin. Malfoy drew back, howling in pain. Hermione ran for the dungeon door, but from behind her Malfoy yelled, _"Crucio!"_

Hermione immediately fell to the floor, screeching in agony. She writhed and convulsed with the pain. _Oh god, the pain, make it stop, make it stop…_

The hex ceased, leaving Hermione panting on the floor. Malfoy had his wand pointed at her, looking furious.

"Rule number one, _Granger," _he spat, "don't _ever _try to attack me or to escape again. You are to do _exactly _as I say, _when _I say. You will speak only when spoken to. And when you speak to me…" His voice slowed slightly, as if he were calming down. "…You will address me as 'Master.' Failure to comply with these rules will result in…"

He kneeled down, grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up so that she was looking at him.

"…_Serious consequences." _His eyes bored into her. "Do you understand me?"

Hermione made a whimpering noise that could have passed as a 'yes.'

"Yes, _what?" _he snarled, yanking painfully on her hair again.

"Master," she mumbled resignedly. It was the first word she had said to him.

Malfoy let go of her hair and Hermione dropped to the ground with a painful _thump. _She didn't look to see him storm out of the room, but when she heard the door slam and was sure he was gone she finally relaxed her tense body.

Wrapping the cloak around her, she curled up into a ball and cried.

_**A/N: I wanted to say a big thank-you to everyone that reviewed! I also wanted to say thanks to all the follows I received – I never expected so many. If you guys have time, please do leave a review as well. More reviews = faster updates!**_


	3. To Tame a Lion

**Chapter Three**

**To Tame a Lion**

Hermione didn't know how long she lay there, curled up in a ball on the cold stone floor of the dungeon, crying. She was sure she must have slept, but her nightmares were so indistinguishable from reality now that she forever hovered on the brink of consciousness, unsure as to whether she was asleep or awake.

There was a bang as the dungeon door was slammed open again. Hermione flinched, but didn't whimper. She'd thought, and had come to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be afraid anymore; wasn't going to give Malfoy the satisfaction of seeing her trembling in his wake. She was a strong, feisty Gryffindor lioness, and an intelligent one at that. She wasn't going to go down without a fight. And eventually, she'd figure out a way to escape.

But it wasn't Malfoy entering the room – it was a house elf. The elf shut the door behind him and hopped down the stairs until he reached Hermione. She noticed that he was carrying a tray upon which appeared to be a steaming bowl of soup. He set it down before her before wringing his ears nervously.

"Master Malfoy says," the house elf said anxiously, "that the Mudblood is to eat." He paused, and then added reluctantly, "Master Malfoy says that the Mudblood resembles a skinny rat."

Anger flooded through Hermione! _How dare he! _The soup looked and smelt appealing, and it'd be the first good meal Hermione would've had for a while, but she moodily pushed the tray away.

"Tell that _weasel _that I don't want whatever he has to give me," she spat.

"But Miss, Master Malfoy will be very cross…" the house elf wheedled.

Hermione then felt guilty as she remembered how appallingly the Malfoys had treated Dobby, and realised that this house elf would probably be punished for her defiance. Even though had been a big supporter of rights for house elves, she had no choice but to stand her ground – refusing to eat was one of the few things that she had control over now.

The house elf sighed, seeing that she wouldn't change her mind, and then disappeared with a snap of his fingers. Trying to put the guilt out of her mind, Hermione curled up on the floor and tried to sleep.

X

"Get up."

Hermione's eyes shot open in time for her to see Malfoy standing over her, his face furious. He grabbed her by her hair and yanked her out of her sleeping position.

"Do you take me for a fool, Granger?"

His grip tightened on her arm. She cried out in pain.

"You defy my orders and yet look at you – so skinny that I can close my hand around your entire arm. Do you think it pleases me to see you wither away?"

Hermione was taken aback. Malfoy – _Draco Malfoy – _was concerned for her wellbeing?

As if he could read her mind, the rage on Malfoy's face was replaced with his usual sadistic grin.

"Of course, I couldn't give a shit about you," he said, smirking. "But _I _want you, and I want you pretty and plump and mine. Now eat."

Hermione complied, sighing. She would only be given a _Crucio _if she rebelled and besides, she needed her strength if she wanted to escape. She gingerly swallowed a spoonful of soup.

"Good girl," Malfoy purred.

She began to eat more ravenously, as if she had just realised how hungry she was. The soup had grown cold, but to someone that hadn't eaten properly in months it tasted delicious.

Malfoy had Transfigured some nearby object into a chair and was now leaning back in it, his chin resting thoughtfully on his fist, watching her intently as if she were an animal at the zoo.

"I like how you eat, Granger," he said. "Such daintiness and etiquette, even now. Even now, after your little friend Potter and your lover boy Weasel have been blasted into bits."

The lump of meat she had been eating grew tough and tasteless in her throat. She tried hard to swallow it. _Just keep your eyes on your plate, _she told herself. _Just eat. _But suddenly, Hermione wasn't very hungry anymore.

"What's wrong, Mudblood?" Malfoy said in a mock-concerned tone. "Have I touched a nerve?"

Tears began to prick Hermione's eyes. The fact that Malfoy was emotionally torturing her, speaking of her dead friends with the intention of hurting her, made her feel sick to her stomach.

"What do you want from me, Malfoy?" she choked out.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. He sat back in his chair and licked his lips. "Firstly, Granger, I want to break you. I want to get you, and I want to beat you and control you and fuck you until there isn't a shred of hope or spirit left in you. I want to take that girl, that strong, feisty, intelligent girl that fought so bravely besides Potter and Weasley, and I want to bend you into a hopeless, obedient little slave. People will see you, and they'll be amazed that I've tamed the once-ferocious Gryffindor lioness into a weak, pathetic, mewling little kitten. When they see you, all they will see is that you're mine.

And secondly, Granger, I want you to shower and get dressed. I'm having a few of my little Death Eater friends over for dinner tonight, and I want them to see what a pretty, submissive, well-trained little slave you're turning out to be already. And I can't have them seeing you when you look and smell like _that, _can I?"

He rose from his chair and came so close that his steely grey eyes were only inches from hers. "And if you even _think _about disobeying me in front of my friends, I'll fuck you so hard that your tight little pussy will be bleeding for weeks."

Malfoy then turned on his heel and sauntered out of the dungeon. "A house elf will come to collect you shortly. See you at dinner, my darling."

_**A/N: Thank you to everyone that reviewed! I'm afraid that I don't have time to respond to them all, but you are appreciated.**_


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